


Memory

by tchallabucky (PuppyWillGraham)



Series: stevebucky drabbles [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Mutually Unrequited, Pre-Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War Bucky Barnes, Stucky - Freeform, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, but Steve just doesn't know it, creative writing, stevebucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 18:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3300002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppyWillGraham/pseuds/tchallabucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve remembers one thing clearly when his mother had passed.</p><p>[[A solo posted on my pre-serum Steve Rogers Twitter RP account.]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memory

The thing Steve Rogers remembered most about the death and funeral of his ma, Sarah Rogers, was the fact that he hadn't been complately alone.

No, he didn't have any blood family left, but he did have someone. That someone had been his best friend, Bucky Barnes; the one who he happened to be ridiculously and keenly sweet on, and had been for the longest time, ever since he could remember.

Bucky may not have been a blood relative, but he was just as much family to Steve as his ma had been. He was the only family Steve had left. They were all the other had; Bucky being without family of his own, after his parents had passed and his younger sister had been taken away from him to live with a family of her own, had always been a sore spot, but they soothed those sore spots just by being there for each other.

Maybe that was how they got away with being so familiar and close to each other without anyone realizing just how close they always were; arms and shoulders constantly brushing, physical contact never causing a brow to be raised, arms flung across shoulders and arms slipping around waists when both were more than a little bit tipsy ceasing to ever cause a single 'tsk' from someone older, wiser; yet they always remained unwise to just what exactly was going on between the two, even when nothing physical had been going on.

There'd always been...something between them, whether it was a longing glance exchanged, lips brushing across Steve's temple when Bucky had been more than half cut due to cheap beer, and Steve had always put it down to the latter fact as to why the former had happened, even if he did tend to bite back a moan by shoving his knuckles in his mouth to muffle the dangerous sound when jerking himself off under covers with his best friend...his best guy...completely passed out on the cot next to his own.

He'd always felt guilty and ashamed after waking up in the morning aftermath of letting himself have a selfish moment's pleasure, but not because being anything other than a straight Irish Catholic was seen as a sin and therefore should be cast as a shameful one. It was because he'd never been able to freely, or even privately in the space he occupied with the object of his affections (because...he had to face it, it was more than merely lust what he desired of the other boy), express his feelings.

That was a shame, and it made him feel rotten and dirty for having to jerk himself off whilst the other boy slept a few paces across from him. He'd always hated keeping secrets from his best pal.

But...back to the memories of the funeral. Bucky had been the only one to be there for him. He was the only one who could've possibly been there for Steve. Even when tiny, skinny, sickly Steve Rogers had nothing, he'd had Bucky.

"I'm with you 'til the end of the line, pal," was what he'd said. It had struck a cord within him, stayed with him ever since.

The way Bucky had looked at him...after he'd said that, caused him joy and grief in equal measures. The longer the pause before a response would make it about as awkward as Steve had felt at that time, and so he'd shook his head with a smile that he tried to convey as mirth.

He also remembers saying that he could get by fine on his own.

But he didn't have to get by on his own, and Bucky had, as if on cue, insisted as much. Giving Steve's shoulder a tight squeeze for longer than was necessary, the action grounding Steve in a way that he'd needed, one that had set warmth pooling into his gut.


End file.
